Boys will be boys
by Bunnyapocalypse96
Summary: The Doctor and Mickey's relationship can be described as rocky at best. They're both in love with the same girl, they're both opinionated - and now they have to share a living space.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hello, readers! Just a few introductory words before the story starts: This fic was inspired by one of my previous one-shots called "Jimmy". If you haven't read it yet, please feel free to go look for it on my profile; it's a nice little tie-in! **

**Happy reading!**

…

It had been an hour since Mickey had asked the Doctor if he could travel with him and Rose. So far, it wasn't turning out to be quite the adventure he'd wanted.

"So," Mickey said awkwardly.

The Doctor and Rose had essentially been ignoring his existence for the past while, instead focusing all their attentions on piloting the TARDIS.

Pre-ignoring, the Doctor had explained to him that he was teaching Rose to help him fly his time machine. It had been an experience very close to torture listening to the alien rave on about how brilliant Rose was and how she was learning faster than some of the Time Lords he had encountered in his lifetime and how he had never had a human companion who he trusted enough to be a co-pilot before.

Mickey knew that Rose was brilliant. He'd known it way before the Doctor had sauntered into their lives and made a time traveller out of her. He'd known it since he'd met her— which was forever ago.

It had been full-blown torture to then watch as Rose gave the Doctor one of those fantastic smiles that made a man feel as though he were the most important person in the world.

"It's only 'cause I have such a good teacher," she had told him fondly. Mickey spent the next five minutes bearing witness to the two of them smiling at each other like a pair of idiot teenagers.

Had he gotten himself out of being the tin dog just to become the third wheel?

No, Mickey shook his head; he wouldn't allow himself to have such self-piteous thoughts anymore. Those were the thoughts of the sad, scared Mickey Smith that Rose had left for another man. That Mickey was gone now.

"This ship of yours travel anywhere you want it to, then? Star Trek style?" Mickey asked, trying to grab some attention from his friends.

"Yep," the Doctor said without looking at him.

He told Rose something and she giggled. The two seemed to be completely absorbed in their own little world.

Mickey watched as the Doctor asked Rose to find the temporal refractor—whatever that was. The Time Lord gave a loud cheer when she found it. He gave her one of those feet-lifting-off-the-floor-spinning-round-in-circles hugs just for completing the stupid, little task.

Mickey scowled. They could at least _try_ to be a little bit coyer about their relationship around him. He was still technically her boyfriend, after all.

Wasn't he?

Rose spotted Mickey's face over the Doctor's shoulder and instantly felt bad for making him stand around with nothing to do. "Sorry," she told him guiltily as she pulled out of her hug with the Doctor, "We've been ignoring you, haven't we?"

"A bit, yeah," Mickey muttered, hands in pockets.

"Oh, that's alright," The Doctor butted in, moving over to where Mickey sulkily stood, "Can't be the first time you've been ignored, can it?"

"Well, we can't all be you. It's pretty hard to ignore someone with an ego as big as yours," Mickey retorted, "Is that why your TARDIS is so much bigger on the inside?"

"Oi, stop it, you two," Rose reprimanded them, moving in between the two who were getting steadily more into each other's faces, "It's only been an hour, remember?"

"He started it," Mickey very maturely stated.

Rose was standing with a hand on each man's chest, serving as a human barrier between them. Mickey couldn't help but appreciate the irony of this in the back of his mind. She was the main reason for the strain between him and the Doctor in the first place, and now she was trying to be peacemaker.

She really was too good for the both of them.

"Yeah, and now I'm ending it," Rose told them, meeting both of their gazes, "I'm going to go take a shower and then I'm calling it a day. Don't let me catch you two fighting when I leave."

She looked between them sternly for a moment, warning them with her eyes that there was to be no nonsense while she was away. Then, she strode off into the TARDIS halls, leaving the Doctor and Mickey staring after her.

"She can be quite frightening when she wants to be," Mickey remarked when he was sure that Rose was out of earshot.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor agreed, "Must be something she gets from her mother."

"Slaps like her mother, too," Mickey said, rubbing a spot on his cheek. Rose had once slapped him when he had returned home from the pub drunk at five in the morning without telling her where he had been. "Whatever you do, Doctor, never give Rose Tyler a reason to slap you. She has no mercy."

"The Tyler women really do have a propensity for violence, don't they?" The Doctor said, rubbing the spot on his own cheek where Jackie Tyler had slapped him.

"That and daytime soap opera," Mickey added.

"Some might say that's a violence against humanity all its own," The Doctor said.

Their eyes met for a moment, and then both men burst out laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

Rose came into the TARDIS kitchen the next morning to find the Doctor and Mickey sitting on either side of the kitchen table, staring into each other's eyes.

"Umm, do you two want a moment alone?" Rose asked, a bemused smile crossing her face. She knew that travelling with these two was going to be quite an interesting experience. The ex and the— whatever she and the Doctor were.

"Shh, can't talk now," the Doctor muttered, still gazing at Mickey intently, "busy."

"With what?" Rose asked incredulously, "You're just staring at each other!"

She looked at the two of them once more. "Oh, no," she groaned, "Don't tell me you're having a staring contest!"

"He said he was the undefeated champion and I told him that that was impossible," Mickey told her without breaking focus, "because I'm the undefeated champion."

"One thing led to another, and now here we are," the Doctor continued for him, "Proving, once and for all, that _I _am the undefeated champion."

It was too early for this, Rose thought to herself. She put the kettle, one that the Doctor had gotten for her at an ancient relics market on Mars, on the stove. If she was going to spend the next while with the two boys, she was going to need a cuppa first.

"Did you two get _any _sleep last night?" Rose asked, taking in their dishevelled appearances. Mickey was sporting some serious stubble and the Doctor's normally tousled hair was sticking out at borderline ridiculous angles. Both of them had dark bags underneath their eyes.

"Who needs sleep?" the Doctor said cockily, still staring.

"Yeah, what he said," Mickey agreed.

"Does this mean that you've sorted out your differences?" Rose asked hopefully. She didn't know if it was just wishful thinking on her part, but they seemed closer this morning than they did yesterday. Maybe the exhaustion was doing them some good…

Both boys gave snorts of laughter, banishing her hopes.

"As if," Mickey said, "Captain Ego over here has been sticking me with dirty work the entire evening. Thought I was going to be able to learn about some TARDIS technology, me being a mechanic and all—wound up learning about the TARDIS toilets instead, isn't that right, Doctor?"

"The plumbing is the heart of any great ship," the Doctor said matter-of-factly, "the stomach and the intestines too, for that matter."

"You seriously stuck him with bathroom duty?" Rose turned on the Doctor disapprovingly, "You should know better than to—ow!" She gave a yelp of pain as she grabbed hold of the kettle without realising how hot it already was.

A silent kettle, she recalled the Doctor's words with chagrin. It boiled within seconds without ever making a sound. A very trendy piece of equipment from 22nd century France.

Mickey and the Doctor looked in Rose's direction with concern, the staring contest completely forgotten. She was already wrapping a wet rag around her hand when they appeared at her side.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked her worriedly.

"I'm fine, really," she reassured them. She felt a little like the damsel in distress as the two boys crowded around her. It was a tiny bit annoying, to be honest. She really appreciated that they cared, but the way they were looking at her, she might as well just have broken a limb.

"Do you need some—er—ointment or something?" Mickey asked uncertainly.

Rose was about to reassure him, once again, that she was going to be okay, but the Doctor was already ploughing forth. "Really Mickey, you're on a state-of-the-art time machine and you want to treat Rose's burns with ointment? Should I just go ahead and replace the bathroom toilet paper with leaves while we're at it? Maybe fire up some smoke signals to summon a pterodactyl to take Rose to the emergency room?"

"Oi, don't be mean," Rose told the Doctor, giving him a slap against the shoulder. She flinched. Wrong hand.

"Let me see," the Doctor said, turning technical.

He held out a hand and Rose placed her hand in his. He proceeded to gently unwrap the rag around her palm, revealing the redness of the wound underneath. Then, he rummaged in his jacket pocket until he found what he was looking for. It was a syringe filled with lime-green liquid.

"Whoa, and you're telling me ointment isn't high-tech enough for you? That thing's practically from the dark ages!" Mickey implored, eyeing the syringe with disdain.

"Er, I'm with Mickey on this one, Doctor," Rose said as she looked at the sheer size and width of the needle the Doctor was holding, "You know I hate needles."

"Trust me, Rose," Was all the Doctor said, looking into her eyes earnestly.

Rose looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "I do," she said.

Mickey resisted the almost overwhelming urge to roll his eyes at the pair of them. Never before had he seen two people who had such an affinity for dramatics as they did.

A small part of him knew that he was just being bitter that he and Rose had never had anything like that between them, though.

The Doctor lifted her hand, palm facing upwards, to prepare it for the injection. Rose averted her eyes and looked at Mickey instead. "Sorry that your stay hasn't exactly been what you've expected it to be so far," she told him.

Mickey understood that she needed her mind to be taken off the needle so she wouldn't pass out. "Oh, that's alright," he said, waving a dismissive hand to set her mind at ease, "It's given me an excuse to see you again, at least."

He heard the Doctor give the quietest of scoffs at this—Rose wouldn't even have caught it.

"There now!" he said more loudly, letting go of her hand, "That ought to heal you up nicely."

Rose held her palm up to her face, wiggling her fingers with a pleased smile. Already, the swelling was going down and the redness was fading. She looked up at the Doctor with an awed expression. "How'd you do that?" She asked him, "I didn't even feel a thing!"

"Told you," he said with a grin.

Mickey stretched his arms and yawned, suddenly realising how tired he was.

"Tired already, Mickitty Mick?" The Doctor said mockingly, "It isn't even noon yet."

"Yeah well, not all of us run on weird alien energy like you do," Mickey said through a second yawn, "Where do I go for a nap?"

"Oh, the TARDIS ought to have made up a room for you by now," Rose said as she started to lead him from the kitchen, "It'll probably be close to mine or the Doctor's."

"Let's hope not," Mickey heard the Doctor mutter as he followed them.

They didn't have to go very far. After passing only a few doors, the TARDIS made a noise for them to stop in front of one of the rooms down the long hall. It was just a few doors away from where Rose's room was.

They walked into the room. The Doctor frowned as he took in his surroundings. "Hold on," Rose said uncertainly, "Doctor, isn't this your room?"

"It is," the Doctor agreed.

It was most definitely his room, complete with papers and books strewn across the floor and Gallifreyan artefacts hanging from the ceiling. The only difference was that the Doctor's hammock in which he took the odd nap had been replaced by a set of bunk beds.

Upon spotting the beds, the Doctor immediately realised what his TARDIS was doing. "Oh, no," he told the ceiling, "_That_ is most definitely not happening. No way."

He led his companions back into the hallway. "Now," he said, still talking to the ceiling, "I'm going to ask you again. Please prepare a room for Mickey. Not my room. A different room."

The Doctor looked up at the ceiling as if he was expecting an answer of some kind. Finally, the TARDIS gave a resigned grunt.

"Good," the Doctor said, nodding approvingly.

He walked back into the room, finding that the bunk beds had disappeared and his hammock was back. So was another one.

Rose laughed. "Well, the TARDIS has spoken," she said, "Looks like you two are stuck with each other."

The Doctor pouted. He didn't want to share a room with Mickey the idiot.

"Or I could always bunk with Rose," Mickey said a little too innocently, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

The Doctor sighed exasperatedly. "Fine!" He relented, "We can share. Make yourself at home."

Mickey walked deeper into the room, giving the Doctor a large grin as he passed him. He was enjoying every second of this new arrangement. He flung himself onto his new hammock and marvelled at how comfortable it was.

"Oh, I'm gonna like it here," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

They had just departed from Madame de Pompadour's ship a few hours ago. When the Doctor had come back after what felt like forever, he'd been sad about something. He wouldn't say what it was, but Mickey guessed that it had something to do with Madame de Pompadour herself.

He didn't feel sorry for the Doctor, though.

In fact, his emotions toward the Doctor were more of the seething variety.

First off, he had thought the Doctor had abandoned them on the alien spaceship when he'd jumped through the window of no return to save his French damsel in distress.

He understood that the Doctor would abandon him, but not Rose. For all the grief that Mickey gave him, he had always believed that there was at least one line that the Doctor would never cross. And that line started and ended with hurting Rose in any way.

Which brought him to the second and main reason why Mickey was so angry at the moment.

Rose.

When the Doctor had returned, Rose had not held the five hours that he had been gone against him. In fact, she had been so glad that he had returned at all that she'd almost burst into tears of happiness when she saw him. After the Doctor had told her that he had invited Reinette along for the ride, however, she had gotten all quiet.

Eventually, when he had come back without her, Mickey knew that they could do nothing but leave the Doctor to his mourning. He didn't want them there to see him like that, and Mickey understood that.

Rose didn't. Mickey could see that she was confused and hurt by the Doctor's rejection and that hurt him, too.

When they had exited the console room, Rose had apologised and told him that she was too tired to give him a tour of the TARDIS at the moment. She bid him good night and proceeded to her bedroom where she had been ever since.

Rose always neglected to account for the fact that Mickey was probably the person in the universe that knew her best. He always knew when something was wrong with her, because one could see it in her face almost immediately. She really was such an easy person to read, owing the fact that she wore her heart on her sleeve in such a sincere and honest way.

Right now, Mickey thought miserably, she was probably sitting in her room and crying her eyes out, thinking that the man she loved didn't love her back.

And who was he to say that the Doctor did?

A man who knew how to change his face was capable of making people believe anything, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps he did this with all of them; making them love him, making them believe that he loved them back and then just moving on to the next one as soon as he got bored.

Mickey was mulling this over for just about the thousandth time as he was lying in his almost-too-comfortable-to-be-a-hammock hammock.

He knew that thinking about the whole situation was angering him further. He knew that he was steadily enraging himself to such a point that he would probably attack the next person to walk through the bedroom door, but he didn't care.

Rose had been hurt by someone she trusted. She had been hurt by the person who had sworn that he would protect her.

Obviously, he had only meant from physical harm.

Sure enough, the bedroom door slid open to reveal the stony face of the man that Mickey was aiming all his fury towards. He was out of the hammock and on his feet before he knew what he was doing. Then, he was yelling at the Doctor at the top of his lungs.

"Who do you think you are?!" He shouted at the Time Lord, for the moment not having a care in the world for how powerful the old alien was. "Playing with her heart as if it's just a toy to you! I can't believe I actually thought you cared! Yes congratulations, Doctor, you had me fooled! Do you even know where she is right now?! Do you even care what Rose is doing?! She's crying her eyes out somewhere in a dark, little room because of you! She thought you were different, that you cared, but you turned out to be just like the rest of 'em! She doesn't deserve this, and you know it!"

Mickey stopped, out of breath.

The Doctor had made no attempt to stop or interrupt him through his entire rant. He had stood perfectly still and taken it. Maybe there really was something wrong with him.

"Well?" Mickey asked him, taken aback by the Doctor's reaction, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The Doctor met his gaze and his eyes were unreadable. "I know," he told him simply, "You're right."

The Doctor gave a sigh that revealed more about his true age than his face ever would. He removed an envelope from his jacket pocket and threw it over his shoulder onto a pile of papers in the corner of the room.

"What's that?" Mickey asked.

"Just more proof of me being a disappointment," the Doctor said idly as he walked over to his hammock and slumped into it. He stared at the ceiling while he lay, his face betraying no emotion other than exhaustion.

"Did she die?" Mickey asked, watching his face closely.

He didn't mind if he offended the Doctor with the directness of the question. He'd deserve it.

"Yes," the Doctor answered, still staring at the ceiling expressionlessly.

"And that's probably a letter from her, then?"

"Yes," the Doctor said again.

"Do you love her?"

For the first time, a flash of something passed across the Doctor's features. Mickey couldn't make out what the emotion was, but at least it was something different.

"Who?" the Doctor asked, shifting his eyes to where Mickey stood.

Mickey looked back at him, meeting his gaze evenly. "You know who."

The Doctor turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Yes," he said.

Mickey nodded to himself. He moved to the light switch and turned out the bedroom lights, plunging the room into darkness. Then, he fell into his own hammock, settling himself in there.

"Thought so," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hiya! Yes, I know...it's been a while. This fic kind of took a back seat to some of the more ambitious stuff I've been working on (*cough* _Shadow _*cough*), but I got around to it eventually as you can see! Don't forget to review and tell me what you think!**

**Enjoy :)**

**...**

Rose woke up that morning to the sound of whispered bickering just outside her bedroom door.

"—because I've known her basically her entire life _that's_ why!" she heard Mickey's voice.

"Well, it wasn't very difficult for her to up and leave you for me, was it? Twice, I might say!" the Doctor hissed in reply.

Apparently, this comment was the cause of the quiet scuffle that then broke out.

"Get—out—of my way!" Mickey whispered furiously. It sounded as though they were shoving each other or something.

"Careful, you're going to drop it!" the Doctor warned.

"Well, if you'd just—stop—_shoving me_—I'll go in first without dropping it!"

Rose sat up in her bed with a frown. She checked the clock on her bedside table and realised that it was only 06:30. And it was a Saturday! The both of them knew _full well_ that she slept 'til at least 09:00 on Saturdays!

How was she to get any sleep with those two making such a fuss right outside of her door? Honestly!

She got up and moved over to the exit, readying herself for the telling off she was about to give the Doctor and Mickey.

They'd all been travelling in the TARDIS together for a little over a month now and to say that she was a little bit fed up with their competitiveness was a wholly understatement. She'd have thought that their sharing a room and all would have helped them to let go of their differences a little bit. Give them a chance to see the world out of the other one's eyes.

Boy, had she been wrong.

If anything, they'd been getting more at each other's throats since the living arrangement had been made. She had no idea what they talked about in the evenings when she wasn't there, but when she would find them in the morning, it would usually be to an atmosphere thick with general sulkiness. That special brand of poutiness that the Doctor knew so well seemed to be rubbing off on Mickey, as well.

"Oi, you two!" she implored as she opened the door, "What are you—"

She was brought up short by the sight of them. The Doctor was angrily trying to manoeuvre himself past Mickey by shoving him in the ribs with his elbow. Mickey, in response, was barring the Doctor's path with one of his feet while simultaneously staving off the Time Lord's attack by smooshing a hand up against his face. All the while, the both of them were seemingly trying to steer clear of the cake that Mickey was holding high above his head with his other hand.

When they spotted her, their eyes popped wide before the pair of them dropped their hands and stared guiltily at the floor. Rose tried not to laugh at this; they looked like two schoolboys who'd just been scolded.

"What are you doing?" she asked crossly, folding her arms.

When they didn't say anything, she raised an eyebrow. "Well?" she prompted. She tried not to think about the fact that she sounded suspiciously like their mother. Like _her_ mother—she gave a little shudder.

"Well—umm—we were actually just—er," Mickey said dumbly. He held up the cake for her to see.

It was chocolate. Her favourite.

"We wanted to bring it to you while you were still, you know, in bed and that," the Doctor muttered awkwardly. He cleared his throat and met her eyes with a small smile, "Happy birthday."

Rose felt her anger dissipate quickly. "_Oh_," she said sheepishly. She grinned, "Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

Both boys grinned back and Mickey raised the cake with more confidence. He went over to Rose's side, slinging an arm around her shoulders in a loose hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Happy birthday, love."

"So!" the Doctor said cheerily when he had also gotten his hug in, his hand lingering slightly on her waist. He looked between his two companions, "I reckon we've got a party to attend."

"Party?" Rose asked, slightly alarmed, "What party?"

Mickey held up his hands defensively. "Hey, it wasn't our idea," he told her earnestly, "It's all your mum's fault, really. Me and her were chatting on the phone a few days back and things just, sort of, escalated."

"Escalated?" her eyebrows shot up. Now she was properly alarmed, "What does that mean?"

Instead of addressing Mickey, Rose looked straight at the Doctor. There was nothing that could tell her that Mister Grand-gestures wasn't involved in this apparent escalation in some way or another.

"Hey!" he said indignantly, mirroring Mickey's movements by raising his hands, "What are you looking at me for?"

"Exactly how big is this party going to be, Doctor?"

"Mickey just said that it was all Jackie's—"

"Cause last time you were involved in a party—mum's fortieth—you wound up being accused of stealing the crown jewels!"

"Oi! You told me that I should buy her a present!" he protested. He sniffed, "And it wasn't as though I was going to give her the_ real _crown jewels, anyway. I just needed a sample of the genuine article for cloning purposes."

"Yeah well, your present _was_ a hit in the end, I suppose," she gave him a fond smile.

Aaaand cue staring.

Mickey shifted uncomfortably as the two of them started smiling at each other again. Ugh, he thought to himself miserably, they just seemed so—so—

He heaved an internal sigh.

So _in love_.

That's what it was. The way they looked at each other. The way they had these moments of intimacy— far more intimate than other couples had— without even touching. It was weird, seeing Rose be that way with a bloke. Mickey had seen her with a number of beaus over the years; the odd two-week fling, Jimmy Stone—he'd thought that, once they were together, that would be it. He didn't like to boast or anything, but he'd fancied that he'd made Rose relatively happy during the course of their relationship. Even eventually gotten her to love him, he believed.

But that wasn't this.

She and the Doctor, they just—gravitated towards each other. Mickey had noticed this from day one. It wasn't even voluntary, he knew, but they couldn't seem to keep away from each other for long. One minute, he would catch Rose alone, or he and the Doctor would be having a conversation in the console room in her absence, and the next, there she would be. There he would be. Standing with barely any space between them. Sometimes entwining their hands like it was a reflex reaction.

Like they were doing now.

"Mickey?" Rose pulled him from his thoughts. Her eyes were twinkling with amusement, "What are you thinking about over there?

"Probably contemplating how bad he is at baking," the Doctor remarked. He shook his head in mock horror, "Thought he was gonna burn down my TARDIS for a minute there."

"Well, at least I can say that I tried," he retorted, snapping back into his and the Doctor's old routine of back-and-forth, "You were just standing in a corner with folded arms, bossing me around the entire time. I reckon you were really just hiding the fact that you're just as rubbish at it as I am!"

"Mickey Smith," the Doctor gasped, actually looking properly outraged at the accusation, "I'll have you know that I studied the art of pastry making under Paris's finest! I was just trying to give you some pointers, since you're so keen on impressing Rose and all."

Now it was Mickey's turn to be outraged. Their argument was just about to turn into their second fight for the day, when Rose started giggling uncontrollably. Both boys turned to look at her confusedly.

"Hold on," she gasped through the giggles. She rounded on the Doctor, "You studied the art of _pastry making_?" Another fit of giggles befell her as an image of the Doctor wearing a frilly, pink apron and smiling down at a freshly baked apple crumble popped into her head.

"Let's just get you over to the party," he grumbled, but Mickey could see that he was secretly trying to hide his smile at making Rose laugh. Lovesick idiot.

…

"You never told me how many people were going to be at this party," Rose breathed as the three of them stood behind the TARDIS door.

"Well," the Doctor said in a non-committal tone, pulling at his ear the way he always did when he knew he was in a tight spot.

Rose raised her eyebrows at him. "That many, then?"

The Doctor just opened the door.

"Happy birthday, Rose!" more than a hundred people shouted.

That man, Rose thought to herself in affectionate exasperation. He'd gone and rented out a _palace._ Probably knew the owner, if she knew him. And the best thing about all of it was seeing all of her mates from off the estate set against the posh backdrop.

The party actually turned out to be a lot of fun in the end, despite the ribbing Rose got from her friends throughout the whole thing. Some of them were disbelieving, some of them were amused—and some of them were jealous.

"Now I know what Rose sees in this older bloke," Rose heard Shareen, who'd had a few and had apparently grown oblivious to their close proximity, say, "I mean, I just thought she was following him around 'cause he was handsome and all that, but the truth had to come out some time. He's bloody loaded!"

Rose bristled slightly at Shareen's comment. She knew that her friend didn't exactly approve of her and the Doctor's—well, whatever one would call what they had, but that didn't change the fact that she was being really rude and that it _was _Rose's party.

From the opposite side of the room, the Doctor was sipping at his champagne, feeling all by his lonesome. He had a clear view of Rose standing across the hall. He'd wanted to give her a moment alone with her friends, though he was quickly rethinking that decision on his part.

"What do you suppose they're talking about?" Mickey asked as he came to stand beside the Doctor and followed his gaze to where Rose stood. At the moment, it seemed as though Rose had taken her mate Shareen to the side and was having a rather heated discussion with her.

"No idea," the Doctor shook his head. He nodded towards Rose, "She's not very happy, though. That's her why-didn't-you-fix-the-washing-machine face."

Mickey looked at him briefly before dropping his gaze and shaking his head.

"What?" the Doctor asked him.

"Just—the two of you," Mickey said, fixing his eyes on Rose where she was, quite obviously, rapidly losing her temper, "You just seem so in sync. Like you've known each other for ages. It's like—" he bit his tongue.

"Like what?"

Mickey met his gaze. "It's like you've been together for longer than you lead us to believe."

"Oh," the Doctor simply said, suddenly looking at his feet.

They stood like that for a moment and Mickey realised that he wasn't going to be getting a straight answer if he didn't ask a straight question.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"How old is she really?"

The Time Lord blew out a long breath. He'd never wanted to broach this topic, though he always knew that he was going to have to one day. Jackie never asked, and the Doctor knew that she didn't want to know either way. She was always so relieved to see her daughter at all that she preferred not to think of how much time had passed for Rose between their visits. It really didn't matter.

"Cause, see, all these people are here today to celebrate Rose's twentieth birthday," Mickey continued, "but I reckon we might've already missed that milestone. So, if it's even really her birthday today, exactly what age is she?"

The Doctor looked at Rose and gave a small smile. She was giving Shareen such a telling off that people were starting to stare. Many a time had he been on the receiving end of one of those, and it wasn't pretty. He usually deserved it when it came his way, though. She would hardly be shouting at her friend like that if it wasn't with reason.

"Relatively speaking, Rose is just about twenty-three years old," he said, meeting Mickey's eyes evenly.

Mickey looked at him with a completely dumb-struck look on his face. "So, what, you two have been living together for nearly _four years _now?"

He nodded.

"And you've made us believe that she's only been with you for a few months?"

"It's just how things work, Mickey," he told him, "You need to understand that—that Rose isn't like the others were. With all my other companions, they would ask me to take them back every so often. Sometimes it would be months for me until they came back," he breathed a sigh, "but with her, it's the other way around. We talk about going to the Powell Estate every now and again, but the next thing we know, we get sidetracked and suddenly it's been three months since we've last stopped off. And we never stay long. An afternoon, sometimes for the weekend, and then we head out again. And suddenly it's been another month with just the two of us. You've experienced it, too. You've been travelling with us for a month now, yet in your friends' eyes, you've only been away for about a week."

"What are you two gossiping about over here?" Rose appeared at the Doctor's side, startling them.

"You done with your row, then?" Mickey asked her, ignoring the question.

"Done with more than just the row, actually," she said, casting an angry glance over her shoulder. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the argument.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked her concernedly, "What were you and her fighting about?"

"Yeah, course I am," she told him, though she didn't quite look it, "Shareen just said something that got to me is all."

"What did she say?" he asked her.

Looking at Rose's face, Mickey had a pretty good guess what the gist of it had been. Shareen had never liked the fact that Rose had run off with some bloke. She didn't like it when Rose had a bloke, period. When Rose had gone missing last year—thanks to His Lordship, by the way— Shareen had been the first one to point the finger at Mickey.

Later, when Rose was back and they'd broken off the relationship (well, _she _broke it off), Shareen had tried to make a move on him. Same thing with Jimmy. Most probably would have been the same thing with the Doctor if he hadn't been so stupidly in love with Rose that he never really left her side when they visited the Estate.

"Oh, you know," Rose said, choosing her words carefully, "She said—well, she basically called me shallow."

"What?" the Doctor seemed personally insulted by the notion. He pulled Rose into a hug, "Rose, you could _never _be shallow."

She chuckled. "That's what I said," she said into his shoulder. Then, pulling back, "I think we should start thinking of wrapping up, anyway. All the guests are either really knackered or really pissed," she grinned, "Especially Mum."

"Drunk Jackie?" the Doctor said in horror, "That's not something I've ever wanted to see."

"It's not so bad, really," Rose said, "When she's drunk she just gets kind of—weepy. She starts crying about dead flowers and things like that. At one point she gets all nostalgic."

"I think that's where she may be at right now," he said, nodding over Rose's shoulder to the woman of the hour where she was relaying her entire life story to a rather distraught-looking waiter.

Rose sighed. "We'd better get her home."

Suddenly, the two of them realised that they had been holding each other during their entire conversation. Both blushing, the Doctor let go of her waist and Rose, in turn, of his shoulders. As their arms fell back to their sides and they started heading towards Jackie, however, their hands did that unconscious entwining-thing again.

Rose stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Aren't you coming, Mickey?"

Mickey realised that he'd been staring at the pair of them for longer than was socially acceptable. He gave Rose a reassuring smile. "Yeah," he said, "I'm right behind you."


End file.
